


What Nugs May Come

by aithne



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13291944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aithne/pseuds/aithne
Summary: Sereda wants only one thing in life: to get away from Schmooples.





	What Nugs May Come

****It never stopped.

The squeaking, high-pitched, emanating from Leliana’s backpack, accompanying her every time she sang.  The wriggling nose.  The tiny, dead eyes.  The peering.  By the Stone, the _peering_.

Sereda regretted the impulse that had led her to hire the idiot to get her the cutest nug in Orzammar.  Leliana loved it, of course.  She’d named it Schmooples.  Put a bow on it.  The squeaking kept Sereda awake all night long.

She told Leliana that she couldn’t stand it anymore.  “Just—go.  Go.  Take Schmooples with you.”

Leliana gave her a wobbly-chinned, watery-eyed look, and left.

Schmooples?

 _Stayed_.

* * *

 

It was there with her as she put together armies to fight the Archdemon.  Followed her through the Tower.  Stood next to her at the Landsmeet.  She considered surrender, if it meant that Loghain would take Schmooples _away_.

It hopped alongside her through the battles in Denerim.  _Please eat the nug,_ she silently begged the darkspawn.  If they didn’t, she killed them.  It was that simple.  Eat the sodding nug or die. 

They all died.  Sereda was rather disappointed.

Perhaps she’d have better luck with the Archdemon.

* * *

 

Not even the Archdemon would eat Schmooples.  Nor would the dragon even step on the nug.  “It’s a _nug_ they’re _tasty!_ ” she screamed at the huge dragon.  “They’re _meant_ to be eaten!”

The Archdemon refused.  She killed it.

And then she stuck her sword through Schmooples.  There, on the battlefield, she _ate_ him.

Raw.

 _Sod the sodding surface world for a lark,_ she thought as she stomped off the battlefield. _I’m going home._

* * *

 

She slept deeply that night for the first time in almost a year. 

The morning after, she woke to blissful, blessed silence.  Her stomach was still pleasantly full.  Full of the sodding nug that had kept her awake for a year.  Why hadn’t she done that before?  It seemed so simple, in retrospect.

She rolled over in bed and opened her eyes.

A pair of tiny, dead eyes stared at her from a nearly-transparent face.

It squeaked.

The ghost of Schmooples sat there, wriggling its nose, and she would never, ever be free.


End file.
